


It's An Easy Job, Really

by KatmaTui



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Gen, One Shot, Team Bonding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-23
Updated: 2017-04-23
Packaged: 2018-10-23 00:35:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,400
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10708446
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KatmaTui/pseuds/KatmaTui
Summary: Director Mace sees a new case as a perfect opportunity to help Coulson and Talbot develop a better working relationship. It will be a good team building exercise for them. Nice and easy.





	It's An Easy Job, Really

**Author's Note:**

> I haven't had a chance to really write anything in awhile--and I'm behind on SHIELD, but this little idea kept popping into my head and I needed to share it. I hope you enjoy it.

May pretended to adjust the straps of her backpack for the fourth time; a stall to get in a word with Coulson once his phone call was done. She glanced down the hall and watched Mace lead General Talbot into a small conference room. The blinds on the interior window that faced the hall were already closed. Coulson pocketed his cell phone.

“Are you sure about this?” May asked him.

Coulson shrugged.

“It's Mace's idea,” he replied. “It's worth a shot.”

“I can get someone else to pilot Daisy's mission,” she told him. “If I pilot then there's no reason to have Talbot along.”

They both watched Simmons enter the conference room. She carried a small jar and a data pad.

“Mace seems to think having someone currently in the military will be a plus,” Coulson said. “So even if you were the pilot, I think he'd insist on Talbot coming along anyway. Go. I'll be fine.”

May sighed, slung her backpack over a shoulder, and head towards the hanger.

 

Mace had taken a seat at the head of the small oval table. Talbot sat on the opposite end, putting him closest to the door. He looked up at Coulson briefly, nodded curtly, and went back to picking at the corner of the file folder on the table in front of him. Jemma had taken a seat near Mace. She smiled at Coulson as he closed the door.

“Good we're all here,” Mace said. He half smiled at Coulson and nodded a few times. “To get things started,” Mace continued, “what were you able to find out General.”

Talbot stopped picking at the corner of the file folder and laid his hand across the top of it.

“You know, I did this with very little information,” Talbot said. “I have read this service file and can't see any reason SHIELD would be interested in this man. I think I would like a little more information first.”

Mace shifted in his seat.

“Well...at this point...” Mace shifted in his seat again.

“You didn't fill him in?” Coulson asked.

“No he didn't,” Talbot answered.

Mace cleared his throat.

“I wasn't sure how...” Mace sighed. “Fine, I'll just say it. I wasn't sure how cooperative you would be since everything we have is circumstantial. It's good strong circumstantial evidence, but it is still not something as concrete as I'm sure you would prefer to have.”

“You had me pull the service history of a retired US Army Colonel on circumstantial evidence?” Talbot pulled the file closer to the edge of the table in front of him. “The words 'circumstantial evidence' make this sound a lot like you think Colonel Evans has commit some sort of crime. So what exactly are you accusing a highly decorated retired Colonel of, Director Mace?”

Coulson looked across the table at Simmons. She glanced up at him, wide eyed, and grimaced. She still clutched the specimen jar of pink goo between her hands. Coulson knew they were both thinking the same thing: _This is not going as smoothly as Mace thought it would._

Mace tapped on the data pad in front of him. He didn't look up.

“We believe that he has commit five bank robberies in the Boston area,” Mace said.

Talbot arched an eyebrow. He glanced at Coulson and Simmons, then back at Mace.

“He's 80 years old, doesn't have driving privileges, and uses one of those mobility scooters,” Talbot said. “I don't think they make for the best get away vehicles.”

Coulson turned his face away from Talbot and tried not to laugh.

“We also believe...he's an Inhuman and using his abilities to commit the robberies,” Mace add.

“You think he's a geriatric Inhuman bank robber.” Talbot nodded absently and then shoved his chair back away from the table. “Well this was...interesting. Good bye.”

“Wait.” Coulson stood up at the same time Talbot did. “Just hear us out. Please.”

Talbot slapped the file back down on the table and sat back down. He fold his arms across his chest and shrugged.

“Agent Simmons, why don't you explain what we have,” Mace said.

“Thank you,” Simmons said. She straightened up in her seat and slid the specimen jar out into the center of the table. “We've found this substance at all five bank robberies,” she began.

Talbot leaned forward and took it. He held the jar up to the light and turned it upside down. The pink substance slowly began to drip down onto the inside of the lid and down the sides of the jar.

“What is it?” Talbot asked. He turned the jar back upright.

“It's primarily a water and glycoprotein based gel,” Simmons replied. “Basically it's the sort of mucus that a snail, slug, or any number of other gastropods would secrete. What differentiates this from something a gastropod would produce is the fact that it contains traces of human DNA.”

Talbot stared at the specimen jar.

“You're telling me someone...secreted this?” He asked.

“Yes,” Simmons replied.

“And you've found this at all five bank robberies?” Talbot asked.

“It's covering all of the cameras,” Coulson explained. “There was a lot of it on the bank floors, up walls to air conditioning vents, then through duct work to the air conditioner units—which have all been up on the roofs of the banks. Vent covers are torn off and the air conditioning units are pretty badly damaged as well. Then there are trails across the roofs and down the walls at the backs of the banks.”

“All of the robberies were after hours and to banks within the city; in areas where they've either had alleys or some other limited cover behind them,” Mace said.

“Like a wooded lot,” Coulson add.

“How exactly is the bank getting robbed?” Talbot asked.

“All of these banks have small vents inside the vaults,” Coulson said. “It's a safety measure that allows for air to be pumped into the vault if someone gets trapped inside. The vaults are all time locked and they'd need some way to keep anyone inside alive until a locksmith could breach the doors. There are trails into those vents and then the vents in the vaults have been ripped wider.”

“You think someone is...Aquaman-ing snails into robbing banks?” Talbot asked.

“Actually it seems more likely he's transforming into some sort of snail like creature and doing it himself,” Simmons said. “Hence the Human DNA.”

Talbot looked at the file in front of him and shook his head.

“How did you come up with Colonel Evans as your suspect?” He asked.

“He's on security footage between three and five days before the robberies on banks two through five,” Mace said. “It appears in all four cases he was getting a tour of the bank because he was thinking of moving his money there because he no longer felt safe at his current bank—which was the first bank that was robbed.”

“That would be one hell of a coincidence, but still it's circumstantial,” Talbot said. “What else do you have?”

“After the second bank robbery he did move in to a fairly expensive high rise,” Mace said. “Something a bit above a retired officer's pension. He paid for a his two year lease up front.”

“And thanks to one of his grand kids helping him set up a Facebook account,” Simmons said, “we know that he liked the Nature Max Facebook page and about a month before the first cases of Terrigenesis he commented on a post they'd made about their fish oil supplements. He'd replied to another persons comment actually. A woman had posted her physical therapist had recommended them and she was asking if they smelled fishy like some other brands. Evans had responded that his physical therapist had recommended them as well and they didn't smell bad at all.”

“OK, he potentially was exposed to the contaminated supplements,” Talbot replied. “Why would he be decide to embark on a career as a bank robber all of a sudden?”

“That's what we don't know,” Coulson said. “Which is why we wanted to see his service record. To see if there was anything disciplinary that might show he had a darker side. Or a cut in his benefits made him desperate. Anything.”

Talbot placed the specimen jar on top of the file he'd brought with him. He slid both out into the center of the table.

“He still has his full pension and retiree benefits,” Talbot said. “Like I said earlier, he was highly decorated. Two disciplinary notes on his record through 30 years and they're both for little nit picking shit. One of them was for not signing in properly after coming back from a day pass—he signed in, but didn't do it while the duty sergeant was watching him. There's nothing in there. I checked his VA file also. He gets his free physical every year and other than that, he's using a doctor that's covered under his retirement plan from the Boston Public School system. Plus he gets Medicaid, Medicare, whatever one that is, now.”

“Which means there's nothing showing he's hurting for money,” Mace said. “Did you find anything out about his family?” Mace turned to Coulson.

“His wife passed away about 7 years ago,” Coulson said. “Both of his kids are doing well, we couldn't find anything showing financial problems there. His grandkids are all accounted for and seem fine as well.”

“And nothing in his file from the Boston Public School system,” Mace said. “He was a well liked teacher and coach. His second career seems to have been as problem free as his first.”

“I'm not picturing an 80 year old deciding to rob banks just because he developed super powers and wanted to live in a swanky apartment,” Talbot said. “Based on his career, I don't see anything that would have anyone trying to get revenge by framing him for a crime spree. This doesn't make sense. I guess you're back to square one.”

“Not exactly,” Coulson said. “Evans is still our best lead. This means we definitely have to go talk to him. Do you need to make any phone calls or can we just get going?” Coulson asked Talbot.

“Wait a minute,” Talbot said. “I though all you needed was a file.” He looked at Mace. “You didn't say anything about me being part of investigating him.”

“I left that part out,” Mace said.

Talbot stared at Coulson.

“I'm sorry,” Coulson said. “I didn't know he wasn't telling you we needed you to be part of the interview.” Coulson turned to Mace. “Why leave that out?”

“I thought he might not come,” Mace said.

“You would have been right,” Talbot said.

“I think,” Mace said, “this would be a good way for the two of you to get to know each other better.”

“Why do we need to do that!?” Talbot asked.

“It would help make a better working relationship,” Mace said. “You two are a lot more alike than you think you are.”

Simmons cocked her head to one side and stared at Mace.

“No we're not.”

Coulson and Talbot said it at the exact same moment. Talbot folded his arms back across his chest and leaned back in his chair.

“You can talk on the flight,” Mace said. “Maybe sit down and grab a beer while you're waiting for Evans. Talk.”

“The two of us are never going to be buddies who sit down and have a beer together. I'm leaving,” Talbot said. He started to stand.

“I don't agree with how he got you here,” Coulson said. “But I do need a pilot.”

“I'm leaving,” Talbot repeat.

“You get to fly a Quinjet,” Coulson said.

“Fine. I'll fly you to Boston,” Talbot said.

“This is great,” Mace said. He turned to Simmons. “Is their equipment on the plane?”

“Yes, it's already loaded.,” Simmons said.

“What equipment do we need for an interview?” Talbot asked.

“It looks like a briefcase,” Simmons explained. “But in the event that Colonel Evans is turning in to some sort of...snail creature, the case can be opened and turned into a containment bag. Fitz and I designed it after I analyzed the slime and he ran the numbers to determine how much strength would need to go into bending those grates, so it will be able to hold him.”

“Somehow this is going to end with me covered in snail slime.” Talbot shook his head. “I can feel it.”

“It'll be fine,” Coulson said.

 

 

 

**Fifteen hours later:**

 

Mr. and Mrs. Harmon Watson strolled from their apartment to the elevator. Mr. Watson hit the down button and noticed what his wife was wearing.

“For God sake's Marian, you aren't really wearing fur to Janelle's party are you?” He asked. “You know how she feels about fur.”

Mrs. Watson stroked her sleeve.

“And I can't wait for her to say something and then see the look on her face when I tell her it's faux,” she replied.

The elevator chimed and the doors began to open.

“I swear you two...”

Mr. Watson was cut off by his wife's scream. He looked into the open elevator and took a step back, moving his wife behind him.

 

 

Coulson and Talbot sat on the floor of the elevator with the containment bag between them. They were covered from head to toe in glistening pink goo. Coulson had tipped his prosthetic arm up so the slime could run out and then set it down in his lap. Talbot's normally perfect hair looked as if it been spiked with hair gel. The General took a swig from one of the beers they had liberated from Colonel Evans' refrigerator before they exited the apartment. Coulson made a squishing squeaking noise as he shifted.

“It's everywhere.” He announced before taking a drink of his own beer.

“Please stop talking about it,” Talbot replied.

The bag erupted in a flurry of punches and muffled obscenities. Coulson looked up and noticed the couple standing out in the hall.

“You might want to take the next one,” he told them.

The couple nodded in agreement. Talbot leaned forward enough to hit the “door close” button on the panel and grimaced as he settled back onto the floor.

“I hate you people,” Talbot's voice carried through the now closed elevator doors.

 

END

 

 

 


End file.
